


Letterbomb

by ussnicole



Category: Green Day
Genre: 21st Century Breakdown, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, American Idiot - Freeform, Amy - Freeform, Angst, Band, Basket case, DoS - Freeform, Dookie, Drugs, F/M, Fell For You, Gay, Green Day - Freeform, Growing Up, I put the archive warning just in case, Last of the American Girls, M/M, Minor Character Death, Music, Revolution Radio, Sex Drugs and Rock and Roll, Some of it I mean, Stray Heart, Suicide, UNO, Whatshername - Freeform, Young Love, bi character, love life, she, songfics, youngblood - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-10-30 13:42:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10877967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ussnicole/pseuds/ussnicole
Summary: Nobody likes you, everybody left you, they're all out without you, having fun.Billie Joe Armstrong's failed love life, as told by Mike Dirnt.





	1. She

He couldn’t help falling for her. He was young, dumb. Seventeen year olds tend to follow their hearts (and their dicks) more than their minds. In hindsight, she may have been the worst thing that ever happened to him. 

She.

He never really called her by name, I began to notice. It was always “she,” or “her.” Maybe that’s why he forgot her name soon after they broke up. 

But that’s beside the point. I’m supposed to be telling you about how they met, not when they broke up. That’s for next chapter. Sorry, I hate staying on task sometimes. In fact, I don’t even think I’ve introduced myself. I’m Mike. Billie Joe - who gets the honor of this story written about him - is my best friend. We’ve known each other for as long as I can remember, and I’ve been right by Billie’s side to witness every single dumb decision and reckless idea. To be fair, I had my fair share of them as well, but this story isn’t about me. Billie Joe writes the songs. I just explain them sometimes. 

You’re welcome.

Now, as I was saying before you distracted me on some stupid tangent about introducing everyone, Billie Joe met Her when we were all juniors in high school. A volatile time with everything going well, so you can imagine… well, let’s just say things were not going well, and She came along right at a time where Billie Joe needed anything but another distraction.

To be fair, they did keep each other alive. But that’s a whole different story.

No, this one starts halfway through junior year. By the time winter break rolled around, Billie Joe had been in the dean’s office a grand total of six times for that semester. How he escaped detention was beyond me, since I was in and out of it practically every other week. Billie had people problems, as he liked to describe them. He claimed that the dean and he were friends, which is why he escaped major punishment, but I think it was just his dumb luck. Funny how it didn’t apply to relationships - ever. 

Okay, so Billie Joe, dean’s office, trouble… where was I going with this? Right. Billie Joe and She met actually because of the dean. Billie Joe was called in for threatening some prick in our physics class (which, coincidentally, both of us were failing), and right as he was leaving, She was being called in. 

Honestly, they were perfect for each other. Billie Joe is… well, he’s an idiot. He’s immature, irresponsible, depressed, a little insane, and my best friend in the whole world. Guess that says something about me, but that’s beside the point. She was a firecracker; I don’t really know how to explain her. She was obviously depressed, and sometimes She seemed more in her head then actually with you, if you know what I mean. Sometimes She would look at you and it seemed like She was screaming, but She was just silent. Super creepy. 

They were both super rebellious, both wore ridiculously smeared black eyeliner, both really liked to give people the middle finger. Lovely, the both of them. They fucked like rabbits, I swear. They also fought whenever they weren’t fucking, and I spent most of my time either avoiding Her or trying to convince him to break up with Her. She would get into a rant and then scream at Billie Joe for hours, and he just yelled right back, even if She was yelling about nothing. They fought over everything from school to parents to the kind of music they would listen to.

Their relationship lasted for a short two months, but it felt very long to me. Billie would always come over to my house after a bout with Her, completely fucked out and with his ears ringing from the latest screaming match. We’d inevitably get stoned and discuss all the angry sex they had. In detail.

Like I said, best friend. I know everything.

What ended it inevitably was the discovery that, after going completely AWOL, She was in a mental hospital. Billie Joe tried to visit Her, but She didn’t recognize him and kept mumbling to herself about smashing the silence. She chased him out of Her room.

Billie took it pretty hard that first month. Even though he acts pretty tough, Billie’s just a big softy under all that angsty exterior, and I let him cry on my couch many a night with a few polaroid pictures and a big bowl of ice cream. He only really likes vanilla. Freak. 


	2. Fell For You

It only really took a few months for Billie Joe to get hung up on another girl, some transfer. We were seniors, and I had hoped that Billie would be able to go a year without getting into another unhealthy relationship. Of course, I was wrong.

She was everything I never thought Billie Joe would go for. She was blonde - like,  _ really  _ blonde - and blue eyed, and she was all long legs and cheerleading team and cut off shorts. Meanwhile, Billie was… well, Billie. Scrawny and punk and so loud, the class clown, total spaz, guitar freak and constant troublemaker. He got into fights all the time that first semester, and I learned a few days after he got suspended why.

He called me one night - or one morning. Either way, it was early. He couldn’t sleep, he rambled to me, and he couldn’t get her out of his head. I had to talk in circles for a while until he would tell me who. When he did I groaned and almost hung up on him. He was babbling about some stupid dream about kissing her and that when he woke up he “fell for her” and all that nonsense. When he hung up he mumbled something about making paper planes.

The next morning, Billie Joe had purple bags under his eyes and he looked like a really hyper ghost. He was fidgeting more than usual, talking at a hundred miles an hour. I wanted to slap him just to get him to shut up. Fortunately - or, unfortunately - just at that moment, she walked up behind Billie. He kept yammering about some stupid dream he had until I nodded at her and he turned to see what I was looking at. When he saw her, Billie Joe’s eyes widened comically and he shut his mouth abruptly.

“Hi,” I said, breaking the awkward silence. Billie Joe looked like he wanted to dive into a locker.

“Hey!” she replied, all bubble gum and sunshine. “Aren’t you Billie Joe?” She looked at Billie with a smile, but from the look on his face, you would have thought she asked if she could kill his puppy. I stepped on his foot and he snapped out of it.

“Ouch! Oh, yeah, that’s me.” Billie stared at her, eyebrows raised in a permanent look of utter surprise. I wish I could have taken a picture, it was so entertaining. “What’s up?” he added lamely after a minute. I almost groaned out loud.

“Well, I remembered that you’re in my precalculus class, and I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind helping me study for the test coming up? I’m so bad at math.” Now this, folks, is what we in the loser class call a Red Flag. Cheerleaders never want help from awkward, embarrassing punk kids. Oh no, this is just a ploy for those sirens to eat another heart. She looked all sunshine and daisies, but I could totally see her sizing Billie Joe up like he was a low fat protein milkshake. With kale.

“I’d love to!” Billie Joe answered before I could pull him away and save him from the heartbreak waiting to happen.

Did I mention he was failing math?

Regardless, they did anything but study. I lost my best friend for a good four months to that harpy. If she wasn’t demanding he go to her cheer performances, he was playing her songs on his guitar. And if they weren’t doing that, they were having sex. Lots of it. As a teenage boy speaking from experience, I don’t even know how they managed. It was truly an inspiration. Occasionally I tried to voice my concerns to Billie, citing his neglect of me and our hopeful band, but he waved me off and told me there would be plenty of time later.

I felt very benevolent when she ran off with the quarterback of the football team; Billie Joe came sobbing to me and I didn’t even tell him there would be “plenty of time” for me to console him later. I’m still pretty proud of myself. 

Who am I kidding? I told him that. I totally did. I slammed the door in his face and he cried on my porch for a solid half hour before my mom asked me what the hell he was doing and I went out and let him in.

But that’s besides the point, now isn’t it. 


	3. Youngblood

We graduated, which is as much a surprise to me as it was to everyone else. In between Billie Joe’s girlfriends, the constant trouble we got into, and the weed we managed to find and smoke, Billie Joe and I had started a band with some asshole in our class as the drummer. He was a total tool but Billie Joe couldn’t drum, and neither could I. School was never a priority, so it was a small miracle when we both barely passed our classes and got our diplomas. 

Finally done with school, we threw ourselves into our music. We were pretty good, and I’m not even bragging. I mean, we still are. Green Day wouldn’t be famous if we weren’t. I figured that Billie Joe would give it a break with the girls, maybe focus on the music for a while, but of course, he found another one. Boy, she was a piece of work. I guess I can’t complain all that much because despite how annoying most of his girlfriends were, Billie Joe sure wrote good songs about them.

So, in between getting high off his ass, writing songs for Green Day, and practicing with me and our asshole drummer, Billie Joe was off with her… I forget her name. They all kind of blend together, the girls and the guys. Oh.

Well, if you’re homophobic, then this is gonna get real awkward real fast because I don’t tolerate assholes who want to give my best friend shit. So. You’ve been warned.

Anyway. Off together. Yeah. She was actually pretty okay for him, because she hated it when he smoked weed and so he stopped for quite a while. They were together a year, so it must have been that long. She was nice too, in a weird kind of way. She cared about Billie Joe, but she was a loner, and sometimes she got restless and disappeared for a few days.

She’d come back inevitably, but her hiatuses would leave Billie Joe sleepless and nervous. He got drunk a lot, falling into people’s yards at midnight and waking up to them spraying him with a garden hose and telling him to fuck off. She would come back to an utterly broken Billie and pick up the pieces, carefully putting him back together just to smash him apart when she split again. When she left for good, leaving a note telling Billie Joe that she couldn’t stay and that she was sorry, I thought he’d never pick up the pieces himself. It scared me, but he found weed again and I got my friend back.

Sort of. 


	4. Basket Case

After that last girl, Bille went out a lot at night, coming home reeking of alcohol and sex. He started rambling about his dreams and he stopped writing songs. Instead he complained around the clock about everything. I got sick of listening to him whine and sent him to a therapist. 

That went well.

Billie Joe went in there for twenty minutes. When he came out he was fuming, mumbling something nasty under his breath. I was sitting in the waiting room, taking full advantage of the free wifi, so I was there when his shrink came out and told me to “please never bring him back here again.” Billie later told me that she said that it was lack of sex. I almost crashed the car, I was laughing so hard. He saw a bar on our way home and told me to drop him off, but I parked and went in with him. Neither of us was old enough to drink yet, but we managed to get a few drinks from the nicer bartender. 

I turned my back for two seconds and when I looked around, Billie had his tongue halfway down the throat of some prostitute. I guess he took what the shrink had to say to heart. A few minutes later they were stumbling out the door, and then ten minutes after that, Billie was slouching back inside. He sat at the bar next to me, grabbed my drink, and gulped it all down. He had tears in his eyes when he turned to me.

“He said I’m boring.” 

“Okay, it’s time to go home.” 


	5. Stray Heart

If you’ve ever had to help a friend come down from a bender, I am so sorry. If you’ve never had to, don’t. Ever. Send them somewhere else, tell them to go to hell, put them in a spaceship and shoot them into outer space. For the love of God, don’t help them. 

I speak from experience, if you couldn’t tell. 

Yeah, after his foray with shrinks and alcohol and male prostitutes (really didn’t want to know the logistics of that) I was left to pick up the pieces and try to patch them together again. Let me tell you, that story about Humpty Dumpty? He wasn’t an egg, he was a fucking heart. All the king’s horses and all that jazz - no kidding. Billie Joe’s humpty heart was screwed. And there I was, trying to put it back together. 

Of course, Billie Joe Armstrong has never pretended to be a creature of finer tastes or high society. He isn’t even medium society. He’s a fucking sex addict, I swear to god. Sex, drugs, and rock and roll. It isn’t mere coincidence those three things sound like they were made for each other. 

As soon as I managed to prop Billie back on his feet, he managed to go and get himself into another predicament. It all started when we met Jimmy - that son of a bitch. He was everything I had just helped Billie Joe through. He had a drug problem, far worse than Billie’s weed habit, and he drank cheap vodka like it was life-giving water. He convinced Billie that they were in love though, so I had to endure him for a full month. 

Jimmy wasn’t the only trouble I had to deal with - oh no. Right as Billie met Jimmy, Amy came along. What a fucking mess that was. Suddenly Billie Joe was in love with two people: an asshole who was dragging him down worse than I could ever fix him from and an angel he didn’t deserve. 

Of course, Amy found out about Jimmy, and Jimmy found out about Amy. They actually met. It was ugly. Jimmy was high off his ass and forgot which day to come over, so he and Amy both showed up on Billie’s front porch one afternoon. Talk about awkward. I was the one who got the door and who had to stand there and try to explain. Jimmy didn’t really understand anything, but Amy did. It was one of the worst experiences in my life, watching her piece together what was going on. I know you can’t actually watch a heart break, but I felt like i did. 

Jimmy left, cussing up a storm and yelling about not wanting to see Billie anymore because “the hussy is ruining my vibe.” Amy burst into tears and ran away right as Billie came to the door, buttoning up a shirt. He had even combed his hair. Asshole. 

Later that week we saw the news. Jimmy had shot himself on the bridge over the bay. Billie Joe cried for an hour and then laced up his shoes. I asked him where he was going, and he told me he was going to find Amy. I was so shocked about the suicide that I didn’t even argue. 

I guess it worked out better than anticipated.  

I know. I’m surprised too. 


End file.
